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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27823618">Finding Victory</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/StuntzTheDude/pseuds/StuntzTheDude'>StuntzTheDude</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Grounded [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Barbarians (TV 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Pregnancy, discussions of trauma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:42:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,379</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27823618</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/StuntzTheDude/pseuds/StuntzTheDude</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Thusnelda.” He looked at her for a long time before speaking. “I do not want to be a king.”<br/>She stared back at him and sat up, the pit dropping out of her stomach before she finally managed, “And why not?”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermann der Cherusker | Arminius of the Cherusci/Thusnelda of the Cherusci (c. 10 BCE), Thusnelda of the Cherusci (c. 10 BCE)/Folkwin Wolfspeer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Grounded [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2033734</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Finding Victory</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is the second one-shot as a part of the Grounded series. It will also be an AU. I think I have decided against watching the second season when it comes out, because now I love everyone, and even though I'm more than happy to see them suffer (aren't we all?), I am NOT happy with seeing these characters' faces on Tacitus's written history. The show has already diverged from it, of course, but still. Just know that I'm diverging too.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The ride back from the new Cherusci village had been unexpectedly long, even though it should have taken less than a day. Arminius and Thusnelda had gone to check on Talio and his men, viewing their progress on rebuilding the settlement gifted to them as part of their spoils: a long-abandoned ruin of a village razed by the Romans when Arminius and Thusnelda were children. Though the town may have been long since destroyed, the land was good and fertile with well-stocked woods for hunting and good pasture nearby. With Cherusci help they were rebuilding and repairing what structures remained in time for winter. Some of the mercenaries had even begun the journey to their ancestral lands to gather their wives and children, now that they had safe lands of their own—and if Arminius and Talio had noticed that their friendship had grown even without the promise of further gold, they had not mentioned such a thing.  </p><p>Now, Arminius was busy currying down their horses in the seldom-had quiet. He still wasn’t used to it after his Roman life: never standing still, always able (or forced) to be busy with something, be it for the army or for Varus. Now, though, Thusnelda helped keep him in his skin when he started to become lost in his thoughts or the worst memories—they began to refer to it as <em> here  </em> and  <em> not here.  </em> She had even taken it upon herself to begin learning rudimentary Latin, likely spurred on by an incident about two weeks after the battle—he was so deep in his own dream he either would (or could) not respond in their own language as she helped  talk  him back awake and back to  <em> here. “ </em> Besides,” she’d said later that day, laughing, “when Rome comes to grovel and offer  <em> us  </em> tribute someday, I would like to hear the words myself.” Arminius had not expected that to fill his heart so fully. As the weeks had gone by, perhaps it was the difference of his homeland and its changing seasons that made it easier. This was not Syria, Spain, or Africa—perhaps the constant reminder in the nip in the air was enough, or perhaps it was that he was among his own gods again. He was growing fond of, rather than afraid of, the occasional silence.  </p><p>Admittedly, though, he knew that soon there wouldn’t be much silence to be had—no sooner than they had dismounted did Thusnelda give curt greetings to the villagers and immediately make her way to the into their hut, laying down to sleep: it was why they came back so soon. After the week away it was likely that some of the villagers would begin to notice. Arminius was already sure that Talio had guessed during their stay. The first night, after Thusnelda excused herself to sleep early and while Arminius and Talio were sharing a last drink before they did the same, Talio turned to Arminius with a sudden, knowing intensity. “She has been awful quiet tonight, hasn’t she?” He said nothing else about it their entire stay. As they readied to leave, he only watched Arminius silently as he saddled both of their horses, Thusnelda appearing to oversee the progress, though looking increasingly green. As she moved to lift her own bags, though, Talio had swatted her hand away and taken it to Arminius without another word.<em> As usual, Talio, do not speak of what you do not understand, right? </em>  Arminius had thought to himself as they rode away. Perhaps he should have discussed it with Talio while they were there—sooner than later would undoubtedly be better for them all. When they told the village and their people (gods, they still weren’t sure how to go about  <em> that </em>), it would be best if they had Talio and his men present either way.  Then there was the matter of Thusnelda’s changing body. Thusnelda did dress loosely, as the women of their people did, and of course her cloak covered most of her as the cold was coming, but Arminius and Thusnelda could both see the growing contour to her belly—and it had only been a little less than two months since the battle. Though Talio had figured it out, the only person they had spoken with outright had been Runa the Seeress three days after returning from the battle. Runa did not offer many words of comfort. She only firmly stated she had already said her piece. Arminius didn’t understand, but when Thusnelda nodded, Arminius figured that if she knew, she would tell him when it was time. Runa did, however, seem to appreciate that Arminius again swore that he would willingly raise and love the child as his own no matter its father, and from there did offer her services overseeing the birth. Now, though, as he finished with Thusnelda’s gelding and moved to his stallion, Arminius made a mental note that he would have to send word to summon Talio, perhaps even today. </p><p>There was an odd noise from the back of the hut and Arminius set down the comb, making his way to their living quarters. As he stepped through the doorway, Thusnelda sat down the bucket she had been leaning over, looking back up at him with a weak smile on her too-pale face. She hadn’t even taken her boots or hairnet off when they had arrived home. “It comes with the baby,” she said wearily before toppling back to the bed with an exasperated sigh. Arminius closed the distance between them and settled next to her, resting his hand on her forehead to check the temperature before placing it on her shoulder.  </p><p>“Are you sure it is not some sort of illness?” She opened her eye to squint back up at him. “This has just come on so suddenly.” </p><p>“Yes, Ari, I am sure.” They sat for some time while Arminius traced small circles across her arm before she finally spoke, her voice stronger. “We need to meet with the new reik of the Bructeri. Make sure he supports our claim. I know we had his clan’s word, but it would be better if they renewed it in person.”  </p><p>Arminius shifted. “That might be for the best if only to establish friendship with him, but I do not think we should be too hasty to ask for anything in return. They had some of the greatest casualties, and while they believed in our cause the strongest over any but our own tribe, I do not want to spoil any goodwill by asking too much too soon, if at all.” </p><p>“You won’t. They will be more than ready to swear themselves to you, Ari. You only have to ask. I will see to it that they do.” In the past few weeks, her advice had been getting more and more direct focusing more on fealty than alliances. When she had suggested it originally, as Arminius stood before the piked head of his foster father, spent, grieving, and barely <em> here,  </em>he had let it wash over him without thinking or even answering. He couldn’t have. It took a few rounds of drink for him to bring it up to Folkwin, and if Folkwin’s reaction was a sign, the pursuit of kingship was not promising. But he hadn’t spoken to Thusnelda about it since. She had only guided, and he had followed. </p><p>“Thusnelda.” He looked at her for a long time before speaking. “I do not want to be a king.”  </p><p>She stared back at him and sat up, the pit dropping out of her stomach before she finally managed, “And why not?” He sighed.  </p><p>“I just want to live my life. <em> Our </em>  life,” he said, resting his hand on her rounding belly. “Reik of the  Cherusci  is one thing. Leading Germania in times of war? That I will gladly do as well. But the only thing that can keep the tribes unified is a common enemy. No matter what faith  <em> you  </em>have in me, I cannot change that. Rome will return to retaliate in the spring, but eventually they will be repelled, and I will not use their methods to keep my opponents in line.” He shook his head. “Long, long ago, before Rome was an empire, they would appoint a dictator—a man of absolute power, greater than a king—over their whole people in times of desperation. When their enemies surrounded them and Rome’s end seemed in sight, there was a farmer named Cincinnatus who was chosen for the post. He left his plow where it lay in the field and took his throne, routing Rome’s enemies in a single day, and then he resigned the next, returning to his farm to finish tilling his field. He ruled for only as long as was required. Then he returned to where he was needed. That is all I want. Anything more would spell death for all of us.” </p><p>Thusnelda shook her head. “You don’t know that.”  </p><p>“I do, Nelda. I know exactly how to conquer nations and destroy whole peoples in the name of unity. There is only one way to do it and that is through blind violence, and it will not be committed in my name. You’ve seen what it’s done! My brother and I were taken, Folkwin’s family was crucified in the middle of our village. My father was driven to suicide, and we are still trying to find enough food for winter after the tributes bled all the tribes dry. Good men and women died for us to stop it barely two months ago, and more still will until Rome quietly admits defeat, builds a wall at the Rhine, and pretends this never happened. They will rewrite this history as a victory for themselves, as they always do. I will either be written as a bastard traitor or a strategic mastermind, you will be written off as a helpless woman or forgotten entirely, and who knows what they will say happened to our child. But that will be the end of it.” He shook his head and met her eyes. “Thusnelda…I want this to be the end of it. I want a <em> life.  </em>I want all of us to have lives. I returned to our people because I finally saw what Rome was. It had to be stopped. Our people and way of life—as difficult as it is—is worth dying for, and I am glad to have given up everything I knew for this chance. I will live and die on my terms. I do not want that power. My decision is final.”  </p><p>Thusnelda could feel her heart beating faster in her chest as she grew colder. “I had thought,” she paused, steadying her voice, “that you would want <em> us </em> to rule, Ari. We have shown that we can and the tribes know that we are worthy.” She clasped her hands, trying to rest them in her lap in such a way as to keep her composure, but failed. “Ari, what are you afraid of?! We are stronger than this!” she said, her voice rising. </p><p>“I am afraid of losing you! I am not strong enough for that!” his shout caught her off guard, but she kept her silence. “I have won all I wanted, Nelda. I have driven back Rome, we have freedom, and I have you. That is all I need! Do you need more than that?” He sat back and clenched his hand tightly around his knee, setting his jaw and watching her as her breath came shallower, shoulders shaking. “Do you need more than me?”  </p><p>She did not speak for a long time as she watched him look back at her, eyes tightening and the color draining from his face as the silence deepened. <em> You could have a husband you can  </em> <em> control, </em>  her mother had said. It hadn’t been at the forefront of her mind when she had said yes to Arminius’s proposal, abandoning Folkwin—the three of them knowing that their marriage was the only way they could avenge her brother, Folkwin’s family, and Ari’s lost childhood. But now, even Folkwin had called her on it after the battle’s when she was still blood-drunk enough not to take it in. She had moved on from Folkwin, out of necessity at first, when they had thought he died—all she and Ari had left was each other. They were giving up everything else for the power to counter Rome. But was Folkwin right that she was only staying because she needed more of the power Arminius could promise? Was her mother? Arminius—Ari—had survived for  <em> her.  </em> He had taken his birthright as  reik  and her hand in marriage for the same reasons as she had married him instead of Folkwin, but he had routed Rome  <em> for her,  </em>and wanted to give it all up to give them a chance at safety and a good life, together. But now, hearing him say it and seeing the way he was sinking before her made it too clear. Finally she spoke, her voice weak. </p><p>“Ari.” There were tears streaming down her cheek. He let out a slow, ragged breath that could have almost been a sob and moved to stand. “Ari, wait, you don’t under—” </p><p>“I do, Thusnelda,” he said hoarsely. “Tell me again how I am not a dog at the feet of my master.”  </p><p>“No, Ari, please, you have to listen to me—” </p><p>“I do not have to listen to you. I am your reik and I am my own man.” He turned from her, chin held too high, his hands in white-knuckled fists. Thusnelda stood so quickly that she knocked back her bucket. The clatter of it on the ground was enough to make him pause and Thusnelda reached out to latch onto his arm. </p><p>“<em> No </em>.” He tried to pull away, but she dug her nails in, grabbing a fistful of his sleeve. “You will listen to me.” He turned to face her, lips in a tight line and the tendons of his clenched jaw lit in stark relief by the firelight. “Ari, I did not see. I did not know.” Her voice cracked, her eye reddening as further tears poured down; even a few managed to streak from her ruined right eye socket, sunken as it had become. “I was wrong, and I love you, and I need nothing else. I thought—I thought I needed more, that we had needed more, but I was wrong!” She choked back another sob. “I just need you.” Arminius stared back, face unreadable past the tension and his own welling tears. “I swear on my own blood, Ari. I only need you.” Thusnelda sagged down, her grip loosening until she let go entirely, settled in a heap on the ground next to him. He did not move as she cried; he didn’t make a sound, until finally her sobbing turned to gagging, she grabbed her stomach and put a hand over her mouth, stifling herself from vomiting. He reached for the bucket to reflexively settle alongside her, gently running his hand across her back and shoulders. She gagged a few more times but nothing came up, and when her tears were spent, she leaned over the bucket taking slow, measured breaths, Arminius’s arm still wrapped around her.  </p><p>“Thank you,” she said. He clasped her shoulder and she in turn reached to him, resting her hand on his thigh. “I am sorry.” Arminius said nothing for a long while, but took her into his arms, cradling her head to his chest. Thusnelda picked at a loose thread on his tunic. It had become surprisingly worn in his short time as reik. She knew he was taking up as many responsibilities as he could within the tribe—doing his best to earn respect through hard work and diligence as opposed to claiming “birthright,” ruling from behind his former mercenaries, and leaving it at that. He was turning even some of the most stubborn minds towards him as he himself took a hand in harvesting, rebuilding burned homesteads, and having an open door to all grievances, even (perhaps especially) those concerning him. Never, though, was he trying to overstep his bounds as the reik of the Cherusci. Thusnelda realized that through it all, he had taken much of her council on his faith in her, not with joy—and in retrospect that he never seemed eager to carry out any of her suggested plays for power. “How do I convince you?” Arminius sighed. </p><p> “I do not know.” He brushed a few stray hairs behind her ear, loosened from their hairnet by her weeping and her sudden bouts of nausea. He kissed the top of her head. “How do I trust you, Nelda?” She nestled her face into his broad chest. The sound of his heartbeat and rush of air in and out of his lungs was just as soothing as his embrace. Not knowing what else to say, Thusnelda sat in silence until Arminius finally took a measured breath. “I know you have asked me the same question before, haven’t you?” A small laugh escaped Thusnelda’s lips before she stopped herself.  </p><p>“I was wrong to doubt you then.” </p><p>“Perhaps I am wrong to doubt you now.” Thusnelda pulled away from his embrace to look up at him. “But using blind trust as a weapon is how we won in the first place, Thusnelda.”  </p><p>“I know.” Thusnelda set her jaw. “You gave everything up for me, Ari. I will do the same for you. We both know we only married for the power it would give us. I made assumptions about both of us. What Folkwin and I had...” She sighed and met his eyes. “I suppose that I am not used to a man who will challenge me.” Arminius’s expression softened. Eventually, the corner of his mouth turned up in a small smile he couldn’t hold back—as stoic and collected as he was, Thusnelda had grown fond of catching that sudden twitch of his lips that he often couldn’t stifle. He gently reached forward and removed the bands of her hairnet, loosening her hair with his fingers and guiding it down across her shoulders. He set it aside and turned to her feet, slipping off her shoes.  </p><p>“You need to rest, Nelda. You are not yourself.” That, she agreed, was true. She did not get hysterical; at least, she never had before unless the situation called for it.  And she had overstepped. She knew she had a strong will that had only grown stronger as the both of them rose to power, but they had achieved their vengeance. In grief, they had also found their love for each other, and their plan for Thusnelda to return to Folkwin had been long forgotten even after they found that he still lived. Their victory was their survival. How could she let herself forget? Arminius loved her for her, just as Folkwin did, but where Folkwin would have followed her without question, Arminius would not: he had more strength of self and far more awareness of the consequences. He would match her. Perhaps that was better. She wouldn't need to do this on her own, and she needed someone to challenge her. </p><p>“You are right.” She again leaned into his chest. Arminius tipped them backwards into the bedding, pulling her closer against him, and she took his hand, guiding it to soothe the swelling skin of her stomach. “We will do this together. I swear it.” Arminius kissed the top of her head. “I love you, Ari<em> . We  </em> love you.” She paused. “It wouldn't be ‘ te  ammo’…is it still ‘ammo?’ Is it a different...what is it, tense?  <em> ‘We  </em>ammo?’” He laughed softly into her hair.  </p><p>“’Te amamus,” He corrected. </p><p>They lay in the dim of their unlit room until Thusnelda was sure he had fallen asleep. She was not cold with him wrapped around her, even though the fire was still unlit, but the warmth she felt was more whole than just her body. She moved her hand to wind her fingers through his, still draped across her stomach. “Please stay with me.” He kissed her cheek.  </p><p>“Always.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Special thanks to Eastern_Lights for help with Latin! </p><p>Thank you for reading, and let me know if you'd like to see more! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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